


A father's lullaby

by Booker_DeShit



Series: The autistic DeWitt's series [12]
Category: BioShock Infinite
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Autistic Booker DeWitt, Autistic Elizabeth (BioShock), BioShock Infinite: Burial at Sea, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Drowning, Family Feels, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fatherhood, Feels, Gen, Heavy Angst, Loss of Parent(s), No Dialogue, Sad, Sad Ending, Sorry Not Sorry, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22435228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Booker_DeShit/pseuds/Booker_DeShit
Summary: Booker wasn't a musician. Elizabeth wasn't a musician. But there is one song, a lullaby, that always brought them together.
Relationships: Booker DeWitt & Elizabeth
Series: The autistic DeWitt's series [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559641
Comments: 9
Kudos: 10





	A father's lullaby

Booker, by all means, wasn’t a musician. He played the guitar, he sang, but he wasn’t amazing at it, at least not in his eyes. Anna, on the other hand, seemed to love her father’s music. It was hard to forget a voice like his, deep & rumbling. Booker would hold the tiny baby to his chest, rocking with her from side to side. His voice would echo in the little room, & Anna could feel it in her little body. Booker rarely smiled, but there was always a faint lift of his lips when he sang to her, sang that one lullaby she loved, even if she didn’t understand it. One that only grew when she reached out her hands to him. She always reached out to him when he sang, & Booker could tell that Anna loved her dad. For many years still, he’d sit by her empty cot & sing those songs she had loved the most. He’d sing, until he couldn’t sing anymore, & then he sold his guitar for more gambling money.

~~==~~==~~==~~==

Booker wasn’t a musician, but the child was frightened & Elizabeth looked at him in that way that he just gave in. He sat down, grabbed the guitar & played. He didn’t know the song he played, but it was one he seemed to know off by heart. Elizabeth begun singing, something about a circle & a home in the sky. It was still a wonder to him how innocent she was, how _kind_ she was after all that she had been through. At some point he had drifted off, the song gradually changing into something he recognised, all too well. He was the one who began singing then, low & steady. It was in a language neither the child nor Elizabeth would understand. It was a lullaby, one he had heard many times as a child, one he always wanted for his daughter to know before... Elizabeth walked up to him, wrapping herself around his arm. His shoulder grew wet, yet he played on. He played until his voice grew hoarse & Elizabeth had run out of tears. When they left the bar, Booker took the guitar with them.

~~==~~==~~==~~==

Elizabeth, by all means, wasn’t a musician. She could sing, she knew a few notes on the guitar, a bit of the flute. She wasn’t amazing at any of it. Yet as Booker thrashed underneath her hands, Elizabeth found herself mumbling words she barely understood. They were in a language she _could have_ understood, if her fate turned out differently. But they were words she knew off by heart, a lullaby. A lullaby he knew even better than she did. When he finally stilled, Elizabeth only sang louder, loud enough to drown out her own thoughts. She sang until her words had turned to anguished sobs. In the end, she left Booker in the river.

~~==~~==~~==~~==

Elizabeth wasn’t a musician, but Sally sat by her dying body & wept, when Elizabeth didn't want her too. With the last of her strength, Elizabeth begun to sing, a lullaby she knew off by heart, but one which she still didn’t understand. She sang it, her voice weak, but echoing loudly in the empty room. She sang it until Sally was lulled into a less than restful sleep, leaning against her side, tucked under her arm. Elizabeth sung until she felt herself slipping away. She could no longer sing her father’s lullaby, too tired to even keep her eyes open. In the end, she left the world with him, with Booker waiting for her.

~~==~~==~~==~~==

Booker wasn’t a musician. He was a thug, a killer.

Elizabeth wasn’t a musician. She was a freak, a killer.

Yet they had both been born hearing that one song, that one lullaby. And they had left the world in much the same way.

If there was an afterlife, Booker spent it with his daughter, singing songs to her, singing a lullaby to her.

If there was an afterlife, Elizabeth... Anna, spent it with her father, listening to him sing to her, sing her a lullaby.   



End file.
